CHAPTER 07
Thud.
Jung Do-hyun set his coffee cup down at the edge of his desk and let out a short breath while staring at the monitor.
Maybe he had been buried in numbers and reports for too long. His eyes ached, and his head throbbed.
He pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, but the discomfort wouldn’t fade.
‘This is troublesome. I need to have this organized by tomorrow…’
It felt like his brain had hit its limit.
The calculations that were supposed to run cold and precise kept stalling. Even he could tell his work had been dragging.
As he leaned back in his chair, something on the desk caught his eye.
A black USB drive.
‘Come to think of it…’
Because of the sudden issue at the overseas branch, he had rushed back to the company and completely forgotten about it.
The USB he had meant to deliver to the professor’s office.
‘So I brought it back.’
He had been too busy to notice, and now it had ended up in his office.
There was no reason for him to go back to Hankuk University anytime soon, and no time to return it either.
He picked up the USB and was about to toss it into the trash—
but paused.
“Hmm.”
After a brief hesitation, he placed it back on the desk.
He had been trying to clear his head anyway. He could spare three minutes to satisfy a small curiosity.
‘If I check the contents, I might at least find a name or student ID. Then I can have the school handle it.’
He turned on a secondary laptop that didn’t contain any sensitive materials. After checking basic security precautions, he inserted the USB.
Only one folder appeared.
Only one file inside.
File name: Mercury_guide.mp3
‘Composition major?’
That was all he could infer. There was no name, age, or student ID anywhere.
Even if he returned it, he had a feeling it would be difficult to identify the owner.
‘Maybe the professors could recognize it just by listening?’
Without much expectation, Jung Do-hyun clicked the file.
After all, student-level music rarely impressed him.
♩♪♬♪…
The air shifted.
‘This is more polished than I expected.’
The strings carried a surprisingly refined melody. It flowed like water, delicate and smooth.
Then humming layered over it.
A common method when lyrics weren’t finalized. A clear, bright voice completed the mood of the song.
Even though it was just humming, the concept of the piece was unmistakable.
Jung Do-hyun found himself listening seriously. His eyes slowly closed.
The piano and bass crossed each other like they were having a conversation. The melody itself was simple, yet the chord progression behind it was unfamiliar.
Subtle rhythmic offsets made the piece even more mysterious.
The snare and kick felt slightly forced in, yet somehow blended.
Just like its title, , the rhythm swayed strangely, like liquid metal.
“…Ha.”
A quiet laugh escaped him.
Not mockery, but self-directed irony.
“They say it’s darkest under the lamp. How fitting.”
He knew immediately.
This was something worth investing in.
A composer capable of creating a piece like this was a goose that laid golden eggs—and he hadn’t even known such a person existed.
He quickly searched the file again, but as expected, there was no clue about the composer’s identity.
Only the music remained.
Jung Do-hyun slowly stood up, slipping the USB back into his pocket as he closed the laptop.
“I’ll have to find them.”
No matter what it took.
****
Scratch.
For some reason, my ear itched, so I rubbed it lightly.
‘Is someone talking about me?’
The moment I thought that, Hyunji jumped in.
“Seol! You’re not spacing out again, are you?”
“No. I’m listening.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Okay, maybe I had zoned out for a second.
But listening to basic theory again was boring.
After I helped with accompaniment at the composition transfer study group, and they found out I was also planning to transfer, they gladly accepted me as a study member.
I had come early in the morning, curious about what else I needed to prepare.
‘But all we’re doing is reviewing basic theory I already know.’
I was losing interest fast.
“Honestly.”
Instead of letting it go, Hyunji crossed her arms and sighed.
“You learn harmony and basic theory during entrance exams, but piano and composition are different. You know the written test carries more weight than you think, right?”
“Let it go.”
Donghyuk cut in with a grin, raising one eyebrow.
“If you get a perfect score on the practical exam, you could get zero on the written and still pass.”
“Oppa!”
Despite Hyunji’s scolding, Donghyuk shrugged.
“I’m serious. You saw Seol’s arrangement skills. The professors would shout ‘super pass’ on the spot. I guarantee it.”
Even Hyunji couldn’t refute that, her mouth just opening and closing.
Soyeon added lightly,
“I agree~.”
“Unnie too…!”
“But that doesn’t mean you can prepare nothing.”
Soyeon added playfully.
“Seol, you don’t think the arrangement test is the only practical exam, right?”
“…Isn’t it?”
What else would a composition department test besides composing?
When I asked, Dayeon clapped dramatically.
“Oh my. You really didn’t know?”
“See? That’s why you’re so relaxed.”
I looked at Hyunji in confusion. She sighed and began explaining.
“First, sight-singing and ear training.”
Sight-singing meant reading sheet music and singing it without instrumental help. Ear training meant listening to music and transcribing it into notation.
Basics no music student could ignore.
“The composition department is famous for requiring very high-level sight-singing and dictation.”
I nodded slowly.
“Second, harmony. They’ll give you a chord progression on the spot, and you have to write proper voice leading by hand.”
“The time limit is tight too,” Dayeon added, nodding.
“There’s a third,” Donghyuk chimed in.
“Improvisation. The professor gives you a rhythm or motif, and you have to create about sixteen bars on the spot. Probably easy for you.”
“And finally, your own composition.”
Hyunji delivered the last blow.
“You haven’t been building up original pieces since freshman year like composition majors have. For transfer students, this is actually the hardest part. No matter how good you are at arrangement, if you don’t have your own solid compositions, you fail.”
She crossed her arms and glared at me.
“So if you don’t prepare properly, even if your arrangement skills are amazing, it won’t matter. You’ll lose points elsewhere.”
After hearing everything, it became clear.
The transfer exam required skill across many different areas.
‘Makes sense.’
I muttered inwardly and slowly stood up.
“See? Now you understand why the study group is nece— huh? What are you doing?”
As I gathered my things, Hyunji looked confused.
“I’m going home.”
“What? Now?”
“Yeah.”
“Why all of a sudden?”
I answered honestly.
“I don’t think I need the study group.”
Everyone’s eyes widened.
They spoke one after another.
“Seol, no matter how good you are at piano and arranging, that’s not enough.”
“Yeah. Preparing alone without a study group is hard.”
“Our school’s transfer exam is especially notorious.”
Only Donghyuk smirked.
“Well, I don’t think there’s any point stopping her. Look at her eyes. She’s already decided.”
“Still… preparing without a study group…”
Soyeon rubbed her forehead.
“Don’t blame us if you fail. You know some students try two or three times to transfer, right?”
Even that warning didn’t shake me.
“It’s fine.”
They stared at me as if I were crazy. I slung my bag over my shoulder and bowed slightly.
“I’ll head out first.”
As I turned away, I could hear them whispering.
“Is it okay to just let her go?”
“What if she fails and regrets it?”
Their voices were filled with worry and faint criticism, but I didn’t respond.
Because—
The moment I heard the details of the transfer exam, I became certain.
‘I’m not confident.’
I stepped out of the practice room and grinned.
‘Not confident… that I’ll fail.’
